When I was nine years old, my girlfriends, my sister and I wrote our own rendition of Grease, the musical. This was 1979, and the film was big. I hadn’t even seen it, and I wouldn’t have had the cultural sophistication to understand it. But the oldest in our group —and most precocious — had the comic book, so we had a basis for our mini script. After several micro-rehearsals, we were ready to perform — for our moms!

That was the first writing community I was a part of, and unbeknownst to me at the time, it was the first in a series of writing groups that would span my lifetime until now.

From formal university writing labs, to a group I co-facilitated with a handful of angsty young male musicians out of a Toronto Queen Street studio; from the group I started when I moved to the coast (the poster for which led me to one of my best friends in the world), to my quarterly writing-sisters sessions, to a community group I currently run with a surprising number of avid male members (for a woman who primarily facilitates women-only circles), writing communities have been a cornerstone in my creative life.

Among their many benefits, writing communities offer:

• Social connection for often-isolated artists
• Hatcheries and incubators for writing concepts
• Emotional support in our creative pursuits
• Fun!!!
• Places to experiment judgement-free
• Accountability partners
• Creative dialogue
• A tribal sense of belonging
• Dating pools! (Ha ha, bad joke. Only once, and he was a couch surfer who lived with the Queen Street boys, and yes, I lived to regret it!)

Seriously, though, I can’t recommend writing communities highly enough when I consider all the benefits they provide for members. Writing is reputed to be bloody isolating, but it doesn’t have to be! We can create and join entertaining, meaningful groups that meet regularly and are the epitome of connective.

Writing communities can also be generative for writers. My clients often tell me that even if they don’t write the rest of the week, they write in our group. Of course, for some of them, the weekly circle infuses their days with the inspiration to keep at it. So the effect of the writing group experience can be far-reaching.

I was 25-years-old when I facilitated my first creative writing workshop. Ironically, I created the volunteer opportunity at a local Toronto community centre for survivors of the mental health system to alleviate the sense of seclusion I was experiencing while writing a series of short stories funded by the Canada Council. It was an early lesson in the need for artistic communion, and the group supported me at least as much as it did its members — kind and creative people who were my senior and already knew a lot more than I about life and balance.

After many twists and turns, and years of facilitating everywhere from schools and universities to prisons and recovery centres, I’ve built a career based on creating writing and healing communities for women. It is the most fulfilling and profound work of my life, and I celebrate the path that brought me here.